I was sitting on the couch reading. Tired. Feeling slightly sick and really
hot lazy. It’s been a long week.
I got up to get some water, hoping to ease the nausea, and caught a glimpse of the sky. It was on fire. Through our kitchen window I could see the pink light dancing around the robust, deep gray clouds.
And I knew, I HAVE TO SEE MORE OF THIS. Without a second thought to my water, my nausea, or my laziness, I dashed up the stairs, wriggled out of my jeans and threw on some shorts and a tank top. I barely remembered to supplement with a sports bra, but praise the Lord I did because, real talk: these pregnancy “girls” cannot, I repeat, CANNOT, go on a run without being strapped down. If you don’t know what that means, then nevermind.
Anyway, I threw on an ancient pair of running shoes, mostly because I had tripped on them while haphazardly running into our room which meant I knew exactly where they were. And, knowing that sunsets disappear quickly, I didn’t have time to even think about where I’d left my current running shoes the day before.
Finally, I left our house, lights on, door unlocked (oops), and set off running. And for the first time in months, running didn’t feel like some form of self-inflicted torture. Thankfully I remembered my phone for some pictures. Around each corner, the sky kept changing, brightening, expanding and shrinking all at the same time. Light is so mysterious.
I knew I wouldn’t make it to the lake in time to catch the sunset across the water, so I stopped a few times along the way to take pictures of the rapidly changing sky. iPhone pics won’t do this justice, but it’s the best I have to share.
So inadequate, but that fire…it was captivating.
I made it to the lake, kinda praying I didn’t run too hard in my excitement to soak up all I could of the sky’s bursting hues. I ran down to the shore and took a couple last pics of the fading color. And just like that, the sun kissed the sky goodnight. It was beautiful.
I stood there sweating and out of breath, feeling really thankful. Thankful that I can sweat and be out of breath. Thankful for the miracle of life growing inside me. Honestly, it completely overwhelms me in the best way when I really think about it. But too many times this week I let anxiety and what-ifs steal my joy. That’s life. For the first time this week, I really let myself reflect on the promises of a really good God. Our lives will not be without hardship, but opposition is God’s opportunity to show us how big, how good, how faithful he is. And God is really, really good. If he can paint a sky like he did tonight, he can certainly carry us through anything. It’s so easy to worry. So easy to spend too much time in the future – things that aren’t even real – and forget that (I know this sounds cheesy) the present holds the most joy. I’m thankful to know real and infinite and beautiful grace. And I’m thankful for sunsets like this one tonight that remind me of that grace.
And on that note, I turned around and ran back home.